“Doll, lie back down.” I try to get her to lie back, but she’s on her feet and looking around the room for her clothes. She’s holding a sheet draped around her.
“I need my phone and my clothes.” What the hell is wrong with her?
“You need to relax and take it easy.”
She shakes her head, but at least she stops in her tracks. “I need my phone.” She just keeps repeating herself. I finally pick it up off the bedside table and hand it to her.
“Where are my clothes?” she asks with her eyes on her phone.
“Trashed.” Her eyes shoot up at me. “I’ll get you new ones.”
“You don’t need to do that. I can get my own.” The way she says it makes my chest hurt. “I just need to get back. I have so much I need to catch up on.”
As I stare at her like she’s crazy, the doctor knocks gently and walks in immediately after. His bushy white eyebrows raise when he sees Becca out of bed.
“Mrs. Harrison?” he asks with skepticism.
She stares at him with wide eyes until her phone beeps in her hands and she starts typing away. There is obviously something very fucked up with her head right now.
“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? I need to do a small physical as well now that you’re awake.”
“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” I quirk a brow at her. Who the fuck says she’s fine after going through that shit? And who the fuck is she texting? I stand up and grab her by the waist to pull her back to the bed. She goes rigid in my arms, but she doesn’t fight me.
“You need to lie down, doll. You’re not fine.” I lay her on the bed and she immediately sits up, covering herself with the sheet, phone still in hand.
“Who are you texting?” I finally ask, and she looks back at me with defiance.
“Sarah. I needed to make sure everything is running smoothly. And it’s not!”
“Mrs. Harrison-”
“Stop calling her that!”
“Stop calling me that!” We snap at the doctor in unison. Well at least we’re on the same page about something.
“Rebecca, then?”
“Becca.” I correct him before she opens her mouth.
“Ah. Becca, may I take your vitals and ask you a few questions?”
She keeps her lips pressed together and nods slightly. Why is she acting like this? She just got abducted and beaten, almost murdered. Is she hiding something? She’s got to be holding something back. She lays the phone on the bed and I immediately snatch it. A click of the home button takes me to her security code screen. I start to ask her, but then I remember her son’s birthday from the info Tony gave me. The day after my mother’s birthday. I click 0405 on the screen, and it opens. Her eyes widen, and her jaw juts out.
“Don’t text her back yet. I’ll figure out why.” She starts breathing heavy. “I’ll come up with a lie.”
I read through the few dozen texts from “Sarah PA.” Holy shit. Who the fuck has this many questions in only a few hours? The last one is, “where are you?!?” And Becca’s already responded to all of the other requests.
“You’re not going to tell her anything.” I put the phone in the pocket of my sweats and cross my arms. “You’re going to lie there and get your physical and then rest so you can get better.”
“I’m fine.” Doctor Koleman’s busy reading her pulse and ignoring us.
“You aren’t fine.” I don’t want to recount everything that happened today, but how the fuck could she think she’s fine?
The doctor takes the stethoscope from around his neck and instructs her to sit and breathe. At least she’s listening, even if she’s ignoring me.
“Becca, how are you feeling?” he finally asks, taking a seat in the chair I left by the bed.
“Don’t say fine.” I cut her off with a hard glare as she opens her mouth.
“I feel sore, especially my ribcage.” She speaks calmly, but the doctor cuts her off.
“Two of your ribs are fractured. You’ll have to rest up to help them mend.” She stares at the doctor with a look of confusion before shaking her head.
“No, I’m fine.” Her voice is small and laced with disbelief.
His brow furrows. “I'm certain they’re fractured. You’re on pain medicine at the moment, codeine. It’s going to take at least six weeks to heal properly. You don’t have to rest in bed all day, that’s fine. But you do need to take it easy and make sure to do some deep breathing every two hours to prevent any further damage to your lungs.”
She breathes in deep, as if testing his words. Her eyes fall to the floor.
The doctor continues, “Other than the fractures to your ribs, you have some serious abrasions on your ankles. I’ve left ointments here. You’re going to want to keep them covered when you shower, but gently wash them after and apply the ointment and bandages to keep them clean until they heal.”
Becca stares at the floor with a blank expression before slowly raising her head to look at Dr. Koleman.
“Becca, do you remember what happened?” he asks.
She noticeably swallows before answering, “Yes.”
“Would you mind sharing what you remember?” The room is so fucking quiet I can hear every breath, every small squeak from her shifting on the bed.
“It doesn’t matter. The past is the past for a reason, and it can stay there. I will continue to move forward.” What the fuck? Is that a public relations response?
“Becca, your blood pressure is very high. Are you currently on any medications?” She blinks slowly before answering with a nod. “I need to know what they are.”
“I’m on Valium,” she answers while her fingers intertwine and pull on one another. Her eyes flash to me before finding the ground.
“Anything else?”
She bites the inside of her cheek and says, “The morning-after pill.” I cock a brow at that answer, and then she continues, “Klonopin as well.” She twists the sheets in her hand. “Just at night though. The Klonopin helps me sleep.”
“How long have you been on these?”
“Almost three months. I was hoping to wean off of them, but it didn’t go well,” she answers with a hint of trepidation.
“What happened when your doctor lowered the dose?”
“Just an anxiety attack.” She says it casually, like it doesn’t even matter. “It’s been working very well.”
“I can see that. Your blood pressure is very high at the moment though, Becca.”
“I see.” Her words are sharp.
He leans forward and speaks with gravity in his voice. “I’m worried that you may be in a bit of shock.”
“And what can I do to fix that?” She looks expectantly at him, and I can’t fucking believe it.
“We’ll know more tomorrow. I’d like you to take your pills if you have them on you.”
Her eyes find mine as she answers with a bit of irritation, “They’re at my home.”
“No need to worry. I’ll be back soon with new medication.”
“No need. I need to go home to get a few things.” She starts to stand, and I move directly in her path.
“I’ll get everything you and Jax need; you aren’t going home.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “I think you’ve done enough.” Her words are designed to hurt me, and they're effective, but I ignore them.
“You would really put Jax in danger?” That gets her attention. She clenches her jaw.
“What am I supposed to do then? Nothing? Just let life roll over me?” Her breathing picks up as her voice gets louder. “Just lie there and let life fuck me over time and time again?” Her hands shove against my chest, surprising me, but I stand still and hardly budge. “What do you want from me?!” Tears burn in her eyes as she waits for a response, keeping her gaze firmly on mine.
This is the emotion I expected. More anger than I thought. But this is more of what I had anticipated.
“You just need to come with me, and I’ll take care of everything.”
A humorless laugh slips past her lips. “No you won’t.” She doesn’t say these words with anger. They’re simply stated as fact. “No one’s going to take care of me except for me. And I take care of Jax,” she says as she sidesteps me and mumbles under her breath, “no one else.”
She opens the door barely an inch before my palm slams on it and closes her in.
“You need to relax for just a minute and think things through, Becca. You don’t really have any options.”
She shakes her head and tries to pull the door open, even though she can clearly see I’m pushing against it. “I’ll just go to the police; they’ll be able to do something.”
My blood freezes, and I stare hard at the doctor. She’s still trying to open the door, completely unaware of what she just said and what it means to say those words.
I gentle my hand on her back and lean in close to whisper. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. But those words better never come out of your mouth again.”
Her hand falls from the door, and her eyes go round. She turns quickly, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.” She swallows and puts her hands on my chest, still frantically shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.” Her breaths come in short pants and she repeats herself for a third time. “That’s not what I meant.”
I rub my hand on her back in soothing circles, shushing her. “I didn’t hear what you said, doll.” I place a soft kiss on her forehead. “What was it you said you were going to do?” I give her a hard look with narrow eyes, and fucking hate myself for it. She needs comfort right now, but she keeps pushing me away. I’ll do what I have to do to make this right, even if that means being a prick right now.
A frown mars her face, and sadness clouds her eyes with defeat. “I said I’ll do as you say, Dom.” Her voice is small as she pulls her hands away from my chest.
“Good girl. I’ll take care of you.” She swallows thickly and doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t answer me.
Becca’s a strong woman. I knew that the day she stepped into my office, but she doesn’t have to be right now. She can’t be strong all the time. It’s not possible. Right now she needs someone to lean on, someone to take the lead. Her small hands are still on my chest as I pull her into me. She’s resistant and stubborn. I smile and kiss her hair. She’s gonna have to learn to let me take care of her. I’m not gonna give her any other option.
Dom
Becca looks back at herself in the mirror with hollow eyes. I watch her pupils shrink and focus on every tiny mark on her face. Every bruise. She looks beat to hell, because she was. Looking at the marks makes my blood boil. I can’t wait to get my hand wrapped around their throats so I can beat them to bloody pulps.
“I’m going to need better concealer,” she says with no emotion whatsoever. Her fingertips gently touch her face. She's tracing a cut over her eye and hovering over a large bruise on her jaw.
“I’ll get you everything that you need.”
“We could just make a stop at my house for most of the things I need.”
I shake my head and don’t wait for her to continue her thought as I say, “I sent Clara out a bit ago to get you new things.” Her eyes dart to mine in the mirror.
“That’s very kind, but I don’t need-”
“It’s not about need. It’s about you pleasing me. I seem to recall you saying you’d do what I asked?”
Her face falls, and I feel like a prick. But she fucking needs this. She won’t let me in any other way.
“I wanna see Jax.”
“You should shower first,” I say and as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back in. Who am I to keep her away from him? He’s her son. But she really looks like hell. I can only imagine how he’d react seeing his mom all beat up. “If you wanna-”
“You’re right. I’ll shower first.” She turns around with her back to me and looks at the shower. It’s nothing like what I have at home. I have a state of the art shower system with rainforest shower heads and a solid bench to relax on with the steam going. It also happens to be good for fucking, too. But we’re not at my house yet. I wanna get her put together before she sees Jax, and he’s staying with Ma till then. So instead she’s gonna have to settle for a simple tub and shower setup with a plain white curtain. I mean, it’ll do the trick, but it’s not going to feel nearly as nice, especially on her sore muscles.
“I have a steam room at my house. Just clean up here, and you can relax tonight.”
She turns her head slowly to look at me. I wish she’d fucking talk to me. A tight smile pulls at my lips. Really though, how much has she said to me since I’ve met her? Nothing, really. She’s barely said anything to me. Other than her texts on why we shouldn’t be fucking. I may have looked her up and practically stalked her, but she doesn’t know much about me at all. And I was just doing what I needed to so I could get her in bed.
It’s painfully obvious that I don’t know this woman. I almost got her killed, and I don’t even know her. And she sure as hell doesn’t know me.
“Go ahead and hop in, doll. I’ll sit here and keep you company.” I try to lighten my tone.
She slips off the baggy shirt I put her in and pulls back the curtain with one hand while covering her body with the other. My eyes linger on every bruise, the bandages around her wrists and ankles.
I need to get my mind off this shit. I take a seat on the bench by the towel rack and sit back with my ankles crossed.
“Remember the bandages-” I start, but she doesn’t let me finish.
“I know. I’ll leave them on until I get out.” A moment passes in silence.
“You like sports, doll?” It’s my go-to conversation starter. For all occasions. It’s something I know enough about to dominate the conversation, so I just run with it.
“I was raised a Dolphins fan, so I’m used to hating football by now.” Her sarcastic answer isn’t what I expected. I chuckle and grin with my eyes on her vague silhouette behind the curtain.
“Dolphins? How the hell did that happen?” I ask with the smile still on my face. It’s a rare day when I suggest betting on Miami. But if that’s what she likes, so be it.
“My dad liked them. I liked dolphins. It was an easy choice. I mean, they're like the only team to go into the Super Bowl undefeated, right?”
I huff a laugh. “That was like two decades ago.”
“Still counts.” Her upbeat reply makes me grin. “I like watching the games. I used to go out to a bar and watch them every Sunday. Beer, pizza, wings. You know the way it is. It’s a nice escape.”
“Used to?”
“Life got busy.” She answers with less enthusiasm, making me wish I’d prompted a different question, like who she used to go with. But I know she met her husband in college, so I can guess that answer, and I don’t like it.
I smirk at the curtain. “So you know something about football?”
“I know a little. Like I know the game. I just don’t know the players.”
“What about other sports?”
Her voice noticeably changes. More engaging, more excited. “Jax plays soccer.”
“Isn’t he three?”
“Well, you know, he likes to kick the ball on the field.”
“So your little man is an athlete?” I ask her, but she’s quiet. Her hands have fallen to her sides. It’s silent for a moment; the water spray is the only noise I can hear. And then I watch as her hands move to her face, and a sob comes from the shower.
“Doll, you alright?” My stomach drops. I wonder if it’s finally catching up to her now. If she’s going into shock like Doctor Koleman was worried about.
“Dom?” she finally asks. Her words are muted by the flow of the water. “If something happens to me, please don’t take it out on my son.” My heart clenches, and my vision blurs. The smile vanishes off my face. “I have money. I’ll do anything-”
“Stop it, Becca. Nothing’s happening to you.” I’m hard wit
h my response, but I don’t fucking like the way she’s talking.
“I’m not stupid, Dom.” Her sad voice carries a heavy weight. “Please just don’t hurt him.” I have to take a deep breath and cover my face with my hands. She thinks I’m gonna hurt her son? I can’t fucking believe it. “We don’t have family, but I have a friend in Texas.” Her voice is tight and full of tension. “It’s been a while, but-”
“Doll. I’m gonna need you to knock it the fuck off before I lose my self-control.” That at least gets her to shut up. “I’m not gonna hurt you, or your son.”
“You’re just going to let me go?”
No. My internal answer is immediate, but I don’t voice that. I don’t know what I want from her. I know I feel like shit about what happened, and that I want to make it right. But that’s all I know for certain. “You can’t go until we have De Luca.”
“Is that who took me?” she asks with a hesitant voice. We don’t talk business with women. They stay out of it. Always. I don’t know what to tell her. She’s just standing still in the shower. The water’s going to get cold fast if she doesn’t hurry her ass up.
“Doll, wash up.” After a moment, she reaches for the body wash. I want her to be at ease; I want her to relax. Letting women know about the business isn’t a smart thing to do. But then again, she’s involved already. “De Luca’s a dead man for what he did to you. I promise you that.”
Becca
I let my eyes close for a moment, just feeling the heat on my skin. Calming, relaxing. I focus on the positive. I breathe in deep and slow. It makes my chest hurt, but I ignore it. My entire body feels like it’s throbbing. The bandages around my ankles and wrists are soaked, and the heat stings my wounds.
Focus on the positive. We’re safe. My eyes pop open. That’s a lie. I’m not safe, and I haven’t the faintest clue if Jax is safe right now. My son is downstairs, supposedly. If I don’t do what Dom wants, I have no reassurance that Jax will be alright. Tears slip from the corners of my eyes. I’m at the mercy of the mob. I need to get us out of here. I need to get away. I can’t believe I let this happen to Jax. I’ve dragged him into this by being careless. By recklessly falling for Dom, for his touch.
Those Boys Are Trouble: Valetti Crime Family Box Set Page 10
